Third Degree
by Seeker19
Summary: Kinda fluffy. After a fateful phone call, Angela gives Brennan a master class in interrogation. She knows "something" happened. She knows that "Mistletoe" causes a guilty reaction from both parties. Will she find the Truth? Will B/B ever live it down?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This fluffy little ficlet came to me while I was working on the next chapter of my longer story,"Tough Decisions," and not making much progress. I hope you don't mind the detour. This should be pretty short. No more than three chapters (I hope). As always, Bones and the gang belong to Fox, Hart Hanson et al. No infringement is intended. Reviews are nice. They let me know if you're still reading.

* * *

Temperance Brennan was bent over a partial skull, carefully measuring the left occipital arch and making notes in a file for comparison to the database of missing persons. As often happened, she was so intent on her work, she didn't hear anyone enter her office. Suddenly a voice came from right behind her shoulder, 

"OK, sweetie, it's 'Tell Auntie Angela' Time. What happened between you and Booth at Christmas?" came the voice of her forensic artist and friend, Angela Montenegro.

At first Brennan's brain didn't even register what Angela said, but when it did she came upright so fast she almost clipped Angela on the jaw.

"What?!!! How did you kn. . . I don't know what you mean," she finally managed. "I went to Peru. What could possibly have happened?"

Angela grinned in delight at the tell-tale signs of evasion and deflection coming from Brennan. She had learned a lot about subterfuge from Booth during the past few years, it was true, but she was no match for a master of interrogation like Angela.

"So, something DID happen between the two of you! I thought so! The way both of you have been acting around each other since you came back from Christmas break, it was obvious," she exclaimed gleefully. "Come on, sweetie, tell Auntie Angela. You know you won't feel better until you do."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Angela," Brennan again took refuge in her usual non-answer. "I was in Peru for my vacation."

"Bren, how long have we known each other? What on earth makes you think you can get away with all this denial? I'll figure it out eventually, even if I have to hang Booth up by his thumbs to do it."

"Angela, if you ask Booth, he'll tell you the exact same thing," Brennan began in exasperation.

"I know, sweetie. Have you ever noticed how murder suspects' stories match 'exactly'? You can always tell when they have rehearsed their answers because they're always 'exactly' the same. Word for word."

"This badgering won't do you any good, Angela. There's nothing to tell. What makes you so sure, anyway?" Brennan asked, trying to look calm, logical, and not guilty.

"Well, an adorable little bird called here this morning. He was looking for his daddy, but his daddy's cell phone was out of range, and his work phone went to voice mail, so Parker called here. I picked up the phone when it rolled over to the lab from your office. When I asked him if he had a nice Christmas, he told me this really cute story about how he and _his _daddy got a Christmas tree and took it to you and _your _daddy for Christmas," Angela said dryly. Brennan was so cute when she was trying to look like she didn't know what you meant, when she really did.

"He also said that when they were buying the wires to hook it up to daddy's car, some lady said 'MISTLETOE!' really loud behind them and his daddy jumped like you do when you've done something bad and the teacher sneaks up on you. Apparently Daddy turned really red too, and when Parker asked him why he was scared of someone yelling 'Mistletoe!', he told him, in Parker's words, 'Daddy said I wouldn't understand 'cause I'm not a grownup.'" Angela noted with satisfaction the pink tinge now creeping into Brennan's cheeks. The bait was taken and the frog was in the pot of water. Now it was time to turn up the heat.

"Now to my knowledge, the only woman Booth even had time to see before Christmas was you, because you were both working so hard trying to close the Santa case before the break. Not to mention, I can't imagine Seeley Booth being even the slightest bit bothered by being caught under mistletoe by just about any woman I can think of." Angela paused. "Present company excepted, " she guessed, enjoying the incipient look of panic in Brennan's eyes.

"Of course, I suppose it _could _have been Caroline Julian, because when she says 'Jump!' Booth says 'How high?' But somehow I doubt it," she continued with a skeptical smile. At Brennan's even guiltier flush, Angela smiled even wider. "OK, fine. If you won't tell me, I'll ask Caroline. I bet she'll tell me. I'll use the Freedom of Information Act, if necessary."

With that, Angela turned on her heel and walked out of Brennan's office so fast Brennan couldn't believe it. She also couldn't believe that Angela had figured something out correctly from the very little she actually knew. For a stunned few seconds she stood there waiting for her brain to function. That didn't happen to her very often. The last time had been after The Kiss ended. Brennan didn't know why, but she always thought of It in capital letters. And she thought about It a lot more often than she felt was acceptable, but somehow she couldn't help herself, because her mind went off on a tangent when she least expected it. In fact, she dreamed about It too, much to her chagrin, but now was definitely not the time to think of _that_.

"Damn it," she thought as she finally hurried after Angela, "why am I always surrounded by people who can read my mind when I can't read theirs. It's not fair."

"Angela, wait! Angela!" she said more loudly, hoping that none of the others had heard her. She was walking fast, but when she thought about Angela talking to Caroline Julian, she began to run. It would be better to tell Angela the truth, logically and rationally, and swear her to secrecy before both their lives became a living hell. She could only imagine the smart remarks and teasing from Angela about The Kiss. She cringed at the thought. And Booth--he'd never forgive her if the truth got out!

She gasped as another, even worse, thought occurred to her. If Angela knew, Jack knew, and if Jack knew. . . The teasing and snide comments had just begun to multiply like virulent, drug-resistant bacteria. She shuddered at the thought of Jack's comments, not to mention the looks they'd get from Cam and Zack. And the awkward questions. At that thought, she ran faster. "Angela!!!!"


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Well here's chapter two. I'm thinking of leaving it at this, but I could always throw in Booth's side if any of you are interested. Let me know. :)

* * *

Angela sat in her office waiting for Brennan to catch up. She was so excited and happy for Bren, she couldn't stand it. She had been waiting _years_ for this to happen, and she intended to enjoy every delicious moment. 

By the time Brennan appeared in Angela's doorway, she had her game face on, and a plan of action in place.

"All right, Angela," she announced as she walked in the door, "I'll tell you what you want to know. But you have to give me your word of honor that it won't go any further. And that means not a word to Jack, or anyone else. If you tell anyone, I won't tell you anything again. Ever. And you know I am perfectly capable of keeping that promise."

Angela sighed and wondered why Jack had to pick today of all days to have a meeting across town. She had known that the element of surprise would work on Brennan, but there was always the risk that she would snap back into her stubborn, rational, scientist mode. On this occasion, Brennan had managed it in record time.

"Sweetie, how can you ask me not to tell the man I love?" she said plaintively. "It's inhuman."

"You can simply 'forget' to tell him the way you 'forgot' to tell him about your marriage still being valid," Brennan shot back.

"Low blow, sweetie. You know that that was just a case of wishful thinking on my part. I kept hoping that _he_ would have gotten a divorce without my knowing it. I still say it shouldn't have been valid. Or at the very least they should have put a huge warning in the cruise brochure. You know, like big red letters saying 'If you are convicted of drug possession here, you will spend the rest of your life in prison.' But we're not here to talk about me," she concluded hastily, walking over to shut the door of her office. She wondered when Brennan had gotten so good at deflecting the interrogator's questions with off-the-wall, irrelevant red herrings. That was definitely a higher level technique. She detected Booth's influence.

"I agree to your terms," Angela said decisively. "Now spill. Tell me every teeny tiny little detail. Don't leave anything out."

Brennan thought swiftly and decided that the best methodology would be a clinical statement of the facts, without embellishment. There was no need to tell Angela anything about anything she might have _felt_, since that was irrelevant.

"All right, Ange. The facts are these: I wanted to bring Christmas to my dad and brother at the jail. It was a chance for us to have our first Christmas together since…well, for a long time. I needed Caroline Julian to approve it as the Federal attorney in charge of Dad's case. However, when I asked her, she did not want to grant my request without my making a reciprocal gesture."

"Damn," Angela thought as Brennan paused. When Brennan started sounding like she was giving a paper at an American Association of Forensic Sciences meeting, it was a sign that she didn't intend to use any really juicy descriptive terminology. Angela knew better than anyone that most scientists could make _Lady Chatterley's Lover_ sound like the phone book. She began to think of strategies to throw Brennan off balance so that she would blurt out more details. This was going to be tricky.

"What kind of reciprocal gesture, sweetie?" she asked, but she had a pretty good idea of the answer. Caroline Julian was obviously a kindred spirit when it came to wanting to do whatever it took to make something happen between Booth and Brennan. Who would have thought?

"She said I had to kiss Booth under the mistletoe and that it had to last for five steamboats. I tried to get her to let me take her to dinner instead, but she refused. So we set up a time, and I called Booth and told him to meet me in my office," Brennan said in a rush.

"Wait… what? What do you mean 'five steamboats'? I thought 'steamboat' was something dirty? And you kissed him _here_???!!!! How the hell did I miss that? Oh my God, I wonder if the digital security video of your office from before Christmas is still on the computer! I'll have to check with Elaine in IT! She owes me a favor!"

"Angela, don't you dare! I swear that I will never speak to you again if you do that! Promise me right now!" Brennan demanded.

Angela sighed in disappointment. When Brennan used that tone of voice, she meant what she said.

"All right, sweetie, calm down. I promise. And don't worry. I'm pretty sure they wipe the video after 30 days anyway," Angela said reluctantly. She made a mental note to discreetly check on that last fact, just in case.

"OK, Ange," Brennan said, feeling her heartbeat beginning to slow down. She cleared her throat.

"To answer your relevant questions in reverse order: it happened after you and everyone else had already gone home. I think 'steamboats' are something to do with football. Or maybe basketball. Anyway, you repeat the word 'steamboat' in order to make sure that a certain interval of time has passed. It's like 'Mississippi,' only shorter, although given the different speech cadences that exist, it would be a very inexact timekeeping method," Brennan explained. The more unrelated trivia she threw in, the more bored Angela would get.

"Thanks, I get the gist," Angela cut in. "Would you get to the 'good stuff' already?"

"I don't know what you mean, Angela. Booth got here before Ms. Julian. I explained the situation to him, and he agreed. Ms. Julian came in, and I kissed him. Then she arranged for a very nice Christmas in a trailer at the jail, except that we couldn't have a Christmas tree because it could be used as a weapon. So Booth very thoughtfully brought a Christmas tree and set it up outside the window," Brennan recited as though reading from one of Jack's more boring reports on fungi.

"Unh-unh. No way. You are _not_ getting away with that, Bren,"Angela said with determination. "You promised me 'every teeny tiny little detail,' remember? I want to know about The Kiss! How was it? Didn't you love it? Did you get all hot and bothered? Did Booth? I want to know absolutely everything."

"Angela, of course we didn't get 'hot and bothered.' It was a meaningless kiss under the mistletoe. That's all," Brennan tried, but didn't sound very convincing, even to her own ears. She felt her face getting red just thinking about The Kiss.

"Come on, sweetie," Angela coaxed. "This is me you're talking to. Even when you're not touching you and Booth generate enough electricity to help solve the energy crisis. Don't tell _me_ that you locked lips with Booth for five steamboats and didn't feel anything, because I don't believe you. So how was it? Was there tongue? What am I saying, of course there was. No way did you two kiss without getting into it. Give me details."

Brennan tried to think fast. It was difficult to do when thinking about The Kiss. And The Kiss was very difficult to describe without describing how it felt. She decided to remain as clinical as possible. She said the first thing that came into her head.

"You're just as bad as Sweets. Yes, Angela, if you must know, there was 'tongue.' It was a very nice kiss, but since Caroline Julian was standing right there, that's all it was," she said finally. "But it felt 'strange' because neither Booth nor I think of each other that way. We're partners. I don't know what Ms. Julian could have been thinking, asking us to kiss like that," Brennan said briefly, trying desperately to sound matter of fact about It.

"Sweets!? You mean you told Sweets!?" Angela exclaimed. "I can't believe you told him and not me!"

"I didn't. Booth let it slip out accidentally. He also told Sweets that there was nothing sexual about the kiss whatsoever," Brennan said smugly.

"Yeah, right. I'll bet his nose grew when he said that. Or some other part of his anatomy," Angela riposted sarcastically. "No couple over the legal age limit can French kiss and not think about sex, sweetie. It's just not possible. So how was his technique?" Angela decided to try the direct approach by asking specific questions.

"His technique was fine, Ange. Booth is an excellent kisser. Is that what you want to hear?" Brennan replied shortly. It was obvious that she did not want to talk about it with Angela the way she had about her previous boyfriends.

It was becoming plain to Angela that Brennan was about to get really difficult. She'd never get anything out of her if she dug her heels in. Angela decided to try for sincere interest.

"I want to hear it if it's true, Bren," she said gently. "Mostly I want to know what you remember about it, how it made you feel," Angela said persuasively. "I'd really like to know as a friend, sweetie. If you were disappointed, I'll understand, and I won't say any more about it. I promise." She crossed her fingers and prayed that Brennan didn't take the 'out' she had just given her.

Brennan was torn. When Angela asked like that, she didn't feel she could lie and say she was disappointed, or that It was just 'OK'. "I... he...It was very unexpected, Angela. Very atypical. I can usually remember exactly what I was thinking when I kiss someone, but with Booth. . . " She struggled to find the right words, "There was such a cognitive dissonance between my brain and what I was feeling that I can't really put it into words. With most men, I can say it was either 'nice' or 'enthusiastic' or 'great' or _something, _but with Booth it was. . . different. Like I wasn't a separate, rational, _thinking_ entity at all." She shook her head slightly as if the thought left her bemused. "It was different from anything I've ever experienced before," she murmured softly, almost to herself.

"Oh sweetie," Angela thought fondly, her eyes sincerely damp all of a sudden, "Of course it was. It's the first time you've ever actually _loved_ the guy you were kissing." And then, wryly, she thought, "Leave it to Brennan to use the words 'atypical' and 'cognitive dissonance' to describe her first passionate kiss with the man she loves."

Out loud, she said gently, "Thank you, sweetie. You don't have to say anything else if you don't want to. I appreciate your honesty, I really do."

As Angela watched, Brennan sat there gazing into space, with a look on her face that they had all called 'Dreamy' in junior high. It was obvious that she was remembering The Kiss. It might not have been the stereotypical Big Romantic Moment, but you couldn't really expect that with Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth. Every milestone they had together came from so far away from 'Typical' it was practically in another galaxy. But it was a good beginning, and now they had something unique and very, very _real_ to think about that they hadn't had before. Something they could measure any other lovers by and, of course, find them lacking. And as far as their very good friend Angela Montenegro was concerned, that was enough for now.


End file.
